The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Crescent City Stories: What The Villains Did Next

Questions and Answers

Cypher stared at the chrome avatar, impressed despite herself at the ’bot’s air of predatory seduction. The weave of electromagnetic energy floated ethereally across the young superheroine’s senses and she found herself struggling to comprehend the gynoid’s defences.

It was as if the bot was evolving from moment to moment, its intrusion countermeasures growing increasingly more glacial with each passing second. Cypher had literally never seen anything like it and that concerned her more than she cared to admit.

The rest of the Gadgeteer’s base had fallen with ridiculous ease, the villainess may have been a genius when it came to technology but it didn’t seem as if even she had found a method to counter the young heroine’s uncanny affinity with machines.

At least that was, until now.

Her talent grasped at the gynoid, finding only mirror-smoothness that offered no purchase. Expanded senses screamed their warning as targeting lasers, microwave radar and other far more esoteric radiation painted cross-hairs over Cypher’s slender form.

She risked a glance in Miriam’s direction, knowing that her lover was relying on her and hating the thought of letting the lithesome mystic down.

* * *

“Texan stand-off?” the soft voice whispered in Stephibot’s crystal matrix.

The gynoid didn’t reply, but she was beginning to suspect that the disembodied presence was already aware of her thoughts. She had firing solutions on three of the intruders, but the fast-mover, whose velocity was only marginally sub-sonic, was proving more difficult to lock down.

Internal munition dispensers spun into place, while Stephibot’s augmented brain uploaded tailored attack programs to each missile. Blue fire flickered along the muzzle of her arm cannon, and the air swam before the trio of heroines.

“You know,” the voice answered her unspoken question. “Like a Mexican stand-off, but with far bigger guns?”

Stephibot could feel that her systems were still in a state of flux. Long-dormant nano-machinery was stirring, building upon Mistress’ original design, adapting, improving. The change was ecstatic, but despite the pleasure flowing through her mechanical body, she held the robed woman’s unwavering glare.

“Remember the Alamo?” she subvocalised.

* * *

Miriam gave the robot the benefit of her most baleful stare, which was unfortunately pretty much the limit of her ability to affect the chromed guardian. Anger gnawed uncomfortably at her concentration and it was an effort not to let the rage take hold.

This was Carol’s domain. Technology and magick had never worked well together and, although she could feel something human sealed beneath the gynoid’s skin, it remained stubbornly beyond her reach. Logically, she knew that it wasn’t Cypher’s fault, one look at the blonde cybermancer and it was obvious just how hard she was pushing herself. But Miriam couldn’t quite banish the desire to lash out.

Her moods were growing more unstable and that worried the mystic a lot more than she let on. Ever since she had turned the Enslaver’s magic back in on itself, Miriam had been changing. That decision, coupled with the near limitless potential of the node she had tapped, had left her practically drunk with power and, despite the very best of intentions, she still hadn’t relinquished her hold on the team, much less put their minds back to normal.

Shroud pushed such thoughts away, angrily focussing her attention on the robot blocking their path. She could blast the girl into atoms, but that wasn’t going to help finding her missing... Miriam paused for a moment, searching for the right word to describe the two kidnapped heroines. Team-mates seemed the most likely, but somehow that didn’t quite sit right.

She reached out, irritably winding her power around the others and stoking the small, subservient flame that flickered in their bellies. Somewhere out there she could sense Arclight, but the impression was too muted to be of any use.

They were her girls and the thought of someone else laying claim to them filled her with anger.

* * *

“Greetings,” Stephibot began, somewhat snippily. “This unit’s designation is Stephibot and you are intruding. Please state your intentions or things will become... interesting.”

The gynoid felt a soft shiver stroking the nape of her neck and it took a moment to recognise it as the presence’s laughter. Telemetry indicated that the fast-mover was attempting to flank her, although the signal was muddy with interference.

Her eyes flickered between the women, assessing each in turn and in quite intimate detail. The smaller blonde seemed to be the source of the electromagnetic jamming, while the temperature around the leotard-clad beauty remained impressively low. The apparent leader was as enigmatic as she was beautiful, but that wasn’t going to stop Stephibot from kicking her pert little arse if needs be.

“Eyes on the prize,” the voice whispered softly. “You want to find your Mistress, starting a fight isn’t going to help.”

“And you,” Stephibot snapped back. “What do you want?”

“I...” the presence paused for a moment as though considering. “I want to remember.”

“I haven’t got time for this,” the robed woman announced through gritted teeth. “Slipstream, now!”

Without volition, Stephibot felt something tense in her calves. A loud bang echoed in the small room, as two bolts speared down through the soles of her feet and into the concrete floor. Warning signals flashed, proximity detectors filling her head with their clarion call.

She pushed out her arms, as though to fend off an attacker. Internal conversations were all fine and dandy, but there we four angry metahumans out there and they didn’t seemed inclined to chat.

A ripple of energy spread out from her extended palms, distorting the air. Stephibot’s sensors registered blur of motion just an instant before the fast-mover’s face slammed into the invisible wall that now surrounded the gynoid.

Klaxons rang in her ears, as the impact drove her back and carved deep furrows in the concrete floor. Numbness flooded her right side, before the shock wave of her attacker’s sonic boom drowned out everything else.

Stephibot struggled against the urge to lower her arms and gazed in awe at the unconscious woman slowly sliding to the floor. Carefully she looked up at the trio of heroines, a smug smile tugging at her argent lips.

“A hardfield?” she subvocalised. “I can do that?”

“Yeah,” the voice answered wearily, “There are plans for all sorts of interesting toys hidden away in your databanks. But that hit drained the last of the laminar batteries and burned out all but two of our capacitors. So... keep smiling, but don’t get cocky.”

* * *

“Wake up, Beth,” the villain’s gentle voice coaxed and the Gadgeteer found herself unable to resist.

Warm, chocolate passion still burned at her cunt, filling her completely and then spilling over to nail her clenching arsehole. She could tell that her body was still hopelessly restrained, but that didn’t prevent the villainess from writhing against those all-too inescapable bonds.

What came as a surprise was that the cloying paralysis that had gripped her throat had eased. Her mind was still fogged with arousal but its grip had loosened fractionally and she wasn’t so lost that she didn’t recognise that as a positive.

“It’s time for our little chat,” the Confectioner explained, lowering himself to the ground until he sat cross-legged before her.

“Go to hell,” the villainess croaked, her voice horribly weak.

A strange half-smile rippled across the villain’s face, making the liquid nature of his flesh impossible to ignore. The Gadgeteer felt the cold hand of fear take hold of her and bit down on her tongue in an effort to stifle her frightened moan.

The villain didn’t respond at first, instead he pulled a small pink lollipop from inside his trench coat. Still smiling, he unwrapped the candy, before raising it to his lips and sucking with obvious relish. After several seconds, he popped the sweet out of his mouth and pressed it to his captive’s lips.

Jerking against her bonds, the villainess clamped her mouth tight shut. She had no intention of sampling any more of the Confectioner’s diabolical candies. Still, the sweetness tingled against her lips, making her salivate in anticipation as the scent of strawberries filled her nostrils.

“It’s only truth serum,” the villain laughed, clearly enjoying her distress. “You don’t have any secrets you’d rather not spill, do you, Beth?”

She could taste the tang of the villain’s sweet, or maybe it was just the perfume that hummed against her palate. The Gadgeteer gave the softest of moans and it took all her remaining resolve just to stop her tongue from licking at her chapped lips.

Grinning more cruelly, the Confectioner smeared the lollipop over his captive’s mouth, coating her lips with a glossy sheen. The helpless villainess stared into her tormentor’s face and found no mercy in his calculating stare.

“I could just wrap that collar around your neck again,” he suggested conversationally. “Until your muscles were too lax to stop me from pushing this tiny morsel between your lips. But it would be so much easier for us both if you just opened wide, like a good girl, and did this voluntarily.”

She was so exhausted that it took a supreme effort merely to follow the villain’s reasoning. He was right, of course, she was completely in his power. For the time being, she reminded herself after a moment. Perhaps it would be a good idea not to provoke him any more than was strictly necessary.

Very slowly and with obvious reluctance, the Gadgeteer parted her lips. Sugary sweetness spilled onto her tongue, making her head spin and, almost immediate, the villain popped his sweet into her mouth where it could swirl and melt.

“There now,” he smiled, before removing the lolly and tasting it himself. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? I’m very pleased, Beth. You look like a good little licker and that will help so much later.”

The Gadgeteer cheek’s flushed, anger and shame adding their colour to her pale flesh. The sweet’s mildly acid bite made her mouth water, while its sweet syrup seemed to coat and ease her hoarse throat.

Confusion began to wrap itself around her thoughts as the villainess fought the chemical cocktail. Desire was burning between her thighs, rising up into her chest and threatening to consume her utterly. She panted, each ragged breath letting more of the drugged syrup swirl into her brain.

“First question,” the Confectioner bubbled happily. “And you’re going to want to answer this one. Where are my recipes?”

* * *

Cypher stared at her fallen team-mate, feeling Miriam stiffen as the slender mystic began to draw on her power.

Faced with this seemingly invulnerable adversary, the young woman had found herself with only two options. Either she could release her hold on the building’s security systems and use all her strength to try to blast through the gynoid’s firewalls. Or she could concentrate on trying to find something useful amidst all the Gadgeteer’s files.

The decision was something of a no-brainer. The villainess didn’t seem to have any concept of the term over-kill at least when it came to her base defences. Left to their own devices she had little doubt they would cut through her and friends in a matter of moments.

So, while her mentor and sometime lover prepared to unleash her own kind of hell on the deceptively fragile-looking robot, Carol was scouring the villainess’ encrypted files and searching desperately for another way.

Snowblind glanced across at her, the Norwegian girl’s face a mask of indecision. Slipstream gave a muted groan, squirming weakly on the floor and Cypher let out the breath she had been holding. At least the speedster was still alive.

Normally seeing and, more importantly, feeling Shroud using her magic was enough to leave Cypher breathless. But the small part of psyche that could still think for itself could recognise how the mystic’s entire attitude had changed and not for the better.

Whereas before her spells had been shaped by passion, now they were born of rage. And, even with the cybermancer’s limited understanding of magic, that really didn’t seem like a good thing.

Cypher tried to ignore the soft tremble of Shroud’s power as her awareness moved through the towering stacks of data. The Gadgeteer might have been using quantum-encryption, but the hacker really didn’t care whether she left any evidence of her exploration.

There had to be something she could use, something to defuse the situation, before the small chamber became a war zone.

And then, much to her surprise, Cypher found exactly what she’d been looking for, hidden away beneath a blanket of random noise.

* * *

The robed woman was making what could only be described as mystical passes with her hands and Stephibot’s sensors were screaming that something bad was coming.

“Tell me I can blast her now,” she suggested, wondering just how far she could push the accepted definition of non-lethal.

“Can’t you just answer the question?” the voice answered, the strain distorting its tone. “They aren’t the enemy.”

Stephibot bit back her first response, grudgingly accepting that the disembodied presence was probably right. That didn’t make it any less irritating, quite the opposite in fact. But laying the smack down on these heroines wasn’t going to get her any closer to Mistress.

“This facility was attacked prior to your arrival,” the gynoid stated, matter-of-factly. “Trace evidence suggests that the intruder was: supervillain designated ‘the Confectioner’. This unit’s Mistress was abducted during the attack, a logical assumption is that if your colleagues are no longer on site, then they were taken as well.”

Staring into the dark-skinned woman’s eyes, Stephibot could see that this information wasn’t enough for her. Bracing herself against the expected attack, she designated the mage as her primary target. Almost as an after-thought she tasked a couple of seeker rounds to harass the remaining heroines.

However, before the expected shit-storm could start, the silver-clad blonde suddenly grasped the mage’s arm. The robed woman turned on her team mate, eyes filled with such venom that just for a moment Stephibot thought she might strike her.

“Shroud,” the girl gasped, flinching away from the other woman’s anger. “We’ve got what we came for... please... they’re not here, but I can find them. I promise...”

“Okay,” the mage hissed, visibly shaken by her friend’s reaction. “Help Slipstream and we can get out of here.”

Without another word, the trio of heroines scooped up their fallen colleague and backed away through the breech.

“Well,” Stephibot announced to no one in particular. “That went well.”

* * *

No longer able to even squirm against the insidious liquorice bonds, the Gadgeteer had never felt so weak. It was an effort to string together her thoughts, but still, the answer to the villain’s question seemed obvious. She had no loyalties to her former employer and it was clear that she needed to conserve what little strength she had left in case she had to protect something important.

Something or someone...

Her captor slipped the lollipop out of the villainess’ mouth, trailing a thick strand of pink drool. His expression expectant, the Confectioner waited for her response.

“The Anaesthetist,” she gasped, her mouth numb, the words slurred. “He found a tame chemist to play with.”

Grinning darkly, the villain popped the candy back into her mouth.

“That’s a good girl,” he continued, letting his words stroke over the young woman’s pre-sensitised brain. “So, next you should explain why you decided to stop working with him.”

The Gadgeteer managed a heartfelt groan as the sugary sweet was once again pulled from between her lips. On a purely intellectual level she was aware that the candy was affecting her thought processes. But it was simply too hard to analyse.

And the hardest part was that the villain’s questions seemed so very reasonable.

“He tried,” she began, her words melting into one another. “Tried to make me his slave...”

“Oh dear,” the villain chuckled. “Poor Beth, out of the frying pan...”

Again the lollipop was pressed into her mouth, staining her thoughts with slick, pink ooze. The villain leaned close, allowing his body to brush obscenely against hers as he whispered conspiratorially.

“You’re doing so well, Beth,” he encouraged. “Now, you’re going to share something a little more intimate. You’re going to tell me your deepest, darkest, most forbidden fantasy.”

Whimpering quietly, she felt the sweet pulled loose. She sucked softly, trying to keep the candy in her mouth, knowing that just as soon as it was gone, she was going to have to answer.

“Jo,” she sighed. “Helpless, sleepy, bound... programmed... with Jo, only with Jo...”

“My, my,” the Confectioner smiled. “Now aren’t you just full of surprises? Perhaps the Anaesthetist did a little better with the whole enslavement thing than you realised.”

Before she could even think of responding, the lollipop was back in her mouth. The Gadgeteer whined softly, feeling the liquorice slipping tightly around her throat once more. The villain looped the crimson strand around the lollipop’s stick, securing it tightly in place and the young woman felt her muscles relaxing into helpless torpor.

“I’m afraid that I’ve not been entirely honest with you, Beth,” the Confectioner announced as he fastened the knots. “You see, my truth serum doesn’t really compel you to tell the truth... it makes whatever I tell you feel completely true. And that’s a good thing, as I’m sure you’ll agree.”

She could only blink in confusion, aware of the truth of her captor’s words, but unable to understand them.

“But for now,” he continued brightly. “You’re just going to lie here, feeling entirely wonderful, while you mind becomes beautifully relaxed, open and completely acceptant. And once you’re nice and programmable, I might even see about finding this Jo, you seem so eager to play with...”

To be continued...